


Whatever You Want

by Leamas



Category: Secret History - Donna Tartt
Genre: F/M, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-24
Updated: 2019-02-24
Packaged: 2019-11-04 15:54:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17901065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leamas/pseuds/Leamas
Summary: While Camilla liked his company and was happy to spend night after night with him, she hardly asked for much, so for her to call, clearly distressed, was simply shocking.Henry and Camilla, the day after her escape.





	Whatever You Want

By the time that Henry came to visit Camilla, the day after he helped her move into the Albemarle, she was already looking a lot better for herself. She’d showered and changed into a white sweater and a clean pair of pants. Her hair was brushed so that where Charles had all but pulled a fistful of gold from her head was set in place again. The burn on her wrist was still neatly bandaged, and the light bruising along the side of her face and jaw didn’t look nearly so ghastly now that Henry was looking at her in daylight.

Of everyone, Camilla had always asked him for the least. Charles looked to her first, but like Francis and Richard he’d always taken comfort from Henry’s presence. He needn’t mention Bunny. But while Camilla liked his company and was happy to spend night after night with him, she hardly asked for much, so for her to call, clearly distressed, was simply shocking.

“I spoke to Julian as we discussed,” Henry said once he’d taken a seat across the coffee table from her. She’d made tea for them both, and as she sipped hers she listened to him attentively while he discussed what she’d missed in class that day. “He understands that this is a precarious situation and would like to work with you.”

“Like you said.” Camilla smiled gratefully. Henry nodded. “So what does Julian know?”

“He knows that Charles has it in his head that you and I are having what he sees as inappropriate relations,” Henry said. “We simply can’t convince him otherwise, so I’ve had to move you out here.”

“I’m sure that’s done wonders to set Charles’ mind at ease,” Camilla said. “It isn’t entirely untrue, is it?”

“Except that we are having improper relations.”

They smiled to each other.

“How did Julian take this?”

“He’s enamoured. From his perspective, he only sees that Charles is defending your honour, as your brother,” Henry said, although it was a struggle to even imagine that could be Charles’ motivation after the night before. Camilla had more dignity and restraint than anyone that Henry knew, even in the state that Charles had left her—wounded, bleeding, secretly calling Henry for help as soon as she could get away with it. She’d not seemed unbothered by the violence, but patient with it. Undoubtedly that would only have infuriated Charles more. What he’d done had clearly been with the intention to hurt her—a man didn’t do something like that for any other reason.

“How is Charles?” Camilla asked.

“He was in class,” Henry said. “That’s more than I would have expected.”

“Did he say anything to you?”

“No.”

“Not even afterwards?”

“He left rather quickly.”

“Tell me the truth, Henry.”

“You won’t like the truth,” he said. “I’d prefer it if you didn’t run back to him again, after all the trouble that we went through to make sure that you’re safe.”

Camilla laughed, although it wasn’t a joyous noise and it didn’t soften the air between them, as it usually did. When she held his gaze he noticed the edge in her eye, how she sat deliberating how she should explain something to him. Henry waited silently, tense despite how relieved he was to see that she was well.

“After last night, I don’t think that I could go back to him,” Camilla said. “Nothing will be the same anymore. I worry about him, but what does that really do for either of us? It certainly didn’t protect me last night.”

“Has he ever done this to you before?” Henry asked.

“He’s hurt me,” Camilla said, “but not like that.”

Henry could have killed Charles, happily. It would be easy. He knew this now. The night before it hadn’t crossed his mind; his priority had been only to protect Camilla and help her to escape, but now it seemed so easy that it would be wrong to let Charles live. It wasn’t for Camilla’s sake that he wanted to do this—he didn’t want to avenge her. It was out of sympathy for her that he wouldn’t hurt Charles, but it was for himself that he wanted to kill him. The realisation was liberating.

“You know, we have slept together before,” Camilla said absently. “The idea didn’t just strike him last night.”

“Was it originally his idea or yours?”

She shrugged. “I can’t remember who thought of it first.”

It didn’t particularly matter, he supposed. The sharp look in her eyes had vanished now, and Henry saw only a gentleness in her where she sat, a smile touching her mouth. He had meant it when he decided that she was so dignified about all of this. The way that she talked about this, everything about the situation sounded natural. Really, Henry could only assume that it was. Nothing about this was _normal,_ nor was it what he might expect from someone else, but there was a sense of inevitability to all of this, now that he found that they were both here.

“Well, Henry?” Camilla asked. “Does this surprise you?”

“Admittedly, I’ve suspected something like this might be happening.”

“Does that change what you think of me?”

“Not particularly.”

Camilla set down her drink and stood, circling the coffee table. Her gentle hands touched his shoulders and she knelt on the couch beside hm, then pressed her lips to his. A moment later he relaxed, touching her waist and the back of her head.

When she pulled away and looked at him, she smiled. “Everything will be okay, Henry. You saved me, and I’m alive, aren’t I?”

Somehow, he knew that she understood what he was feeling now, but she had always known him best. They kissed again, and only when she pulled her leg over his and sat straddling his lap did Henry pull her closer against him. She was warm, even her hands, which wandered to the collar of his shirt and carefully worked apart the top two buttons. He liked how it felt when she touched his skin, running her nails lightly across his collar bone until he felt too warm for his own skin and struggled against the urge to grab her and pull her close. Then she took his lip between her teeth and he gasped, and Camilla reached her hand down between the two of them. It didn’t take long for her to unfasten his belt and open his zipper, although she took her time sliding her hand between skin and fabric.

His hands moved to her waist and somehow hooked his thumb around the top of her pants. When he hesitated, Camilla kissed his cheek and breathed in his ear, “Don’t worry about hurting me, please.”

“Whatever you want.” He heard how hoarse his voice sounded, and certainly Camilla did as well. She kissed him again. They were still kissing when Camilla guided Henry to the button on her pants, and together they slipped her pants down her legs, and then she eased herself onto Henry. He used the sound of her breathing and the feeling of her hand twisted in his hair to guide him through this.

When they both finished, Camilla sat with her head tucked against the crook of his neck, her breath warm against his skin. Henry ran his fingers through her hair, until finally she pulled herself off of him and took a seat at his side. Her face was flushed and she seemed to be at ease. He took the moment to readjust his pants, not bothering with the buckle. When he looked back at her he saw that she’d turned to smile at him.

“Will you stay with me tonight?” she asked.

“You are safe here, you know. He won’t find you.”

“Even if he did find me, he wouldn’t kill me,” Camilla said. “He needs me too much; he depends on me.”

“Evidently,” Henry said drily.

“Maybe I don’t want you to stay just for my own protection,” Camilla said, touching his wrist and squeezing gently.


End file.
